


Cold

by MirabelleAurea



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Matt Murdocks needs a hug, give this man a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirabelleAurea/pseuds/MirabelleAurea
Summary: Whatever he tries, Matt still has this cold, dark hole in his chest. (My take on season 3, Matt POV, canon compliant, spoilers)





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This short fic was made for a writing sprint for the prompt "Cold". Thanks to Pikkulef and Dawittiest for the beta and to the Daredevil & Defenders Fanfiction Chat for the sprints.  
> English is not my native language, so if you spot a typo or a grammar error, just point me in the right direction ^^.

At first, Matt thought it would be easy. Cutting all ties, disappearing, being dead. That he wouldn’t miss his friends. That being who he always thought he was would be enough to fulfill his life. But he had to see the truth: at the end of the day there was this hole in him, this cold, dark, empty void in his chest.

First, he thought that just lying here would close this hole with time. But, as his body healed, the hole seemed to grow bigger, darker. Sister Margaret tried to make her way into it, but he wouldn’t let her. She was once in the place where his heart was, but no more. Like all the others. The ones who left him (Dad, Sister Margaret, Stick, Elektra,...) and the ones he pushed away.

When he got back on his feet, weak and wobbly, the hole was still here and surprisingly colder and bigger.

Then, he thought that going back on the streets would close the void in his chest. It was not having a purpose, no, it was trying to end all this, once and for all. Because he knew that there was nothing on the other side (Elektra had made sure he understood that), and if there was nothing, there would be no cold, no emptiness, no more feelings.

But, in the end, he hadn’t found the deliverance he was seeking. And, as he laid on the floor, bleeding and aching again, the cold of the stone on his cheek echoed the cold in his chest. So, he tried to find a purpose, a crusade, something, anything to fill this void, to chase the cold. And day after day, as he seeked his goal, as he walked towards Fisk, a single thought in his mind, the cold, dark hole was still there.

It was only then that he understood why the hole wouldn’t close itself. It wasn’t a hole. It was a missing piece. Like the one in the middle of the puzzle, the one you needed to complete it. The one that makes the picture ugly because all you could see is the missing piece.

And this piece had a very specific shape. Two in fact. They were shaped like the ones he tried to push away. They were shaped like his friends. And, at the end of his journey, he knew that without them, the cold, dark hole in his chest would be here forever, whatever he would try to fill it with. Because this hole was his heart. And there was enough room in it for his friends and his mother.


End file.
